The Taste of Love
by sugah66
Summary: The taste of love is sweet when hearts like ours meet. Johnny Cash. 6th in The Taste of Love series. CaRWash.
1. Santa Came Through

**TITLE: The Taste of Love  
****AUTHOR: Sugah Sugah  
****SUMMARY: And they finally get it right…  
****SPOILERS: general season 4  
****PAIRING: Calleigh/Ryan  
****RATING: M – rated to be safe. This could get ugly later.  
****DISCLAIMER: I still don't own them. Don't sue.  
****AUTHOR'S NOTE: What may possibly be the final story in "The Taste of Love" series (aptly named "The Taste of Love") immediately following the events of "Neil Sedaka Was Wrong". I mean immediately following. Like, same day.  
****Thank you to those loyal readers who have stayed with me through the whole series. I hope this is a satisfying conclusion to the saga that is the Ryan/Calleigh relationship. Should the muse inspire me, I may continue past this point.  
****NOT a one-shot. This is multi-chapter.  
****Loosely based on "Ring of Fire" by Johnny Cash.  
****  
Let's see how many adverbs I can use. And go.**

**Reviews are always appreciated.**

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The Taste of Love

_**"The taste of love is sweet when hearts like ours meet…" – Johnny Cash** _

Ryan. Single. Ryan. Single. Ryan. Single.

That same mantra kept repeating itself in Calleigh's sleep-deprived brain. Mere hours after bringing Ryan home from the emergency room (he had, in typical guy fashion, fractured his hand after punching a wall), Calleigh lay on her back in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking, _Ryan is single_, over and over until she was positively sure she was going to go completely crazy. There was no way she was ever going to fall asleep; she was too excited. The same kind of nervous excitement she used to get on Christmas Eve as a kid – lying awake at night hoping Santa would leave something good under the tree, wondering what he might bring.

Old Santa had really come through this time and left her not a shiny new toy, but a guy – who, technically, could be classified as a shiny new toy. Ryan was single. That was the best present Calleigh could ever ask for. The nightmare was finally over. He had come to his senses and ended his paltry excuse for a relationship with Natalia, the office whore. He was officially up for grabs.

But was he? Calleigh tried to do the math in her head. How long should she wait before asking him out? What was an acceptable amount of grieving time? The general rule was that one needed half the length of the relationship to get over said relationship. Ryan and Natalia had been seeing each other, what, a month and a half? That meant that Calleigh had to suffer through three weeks of torture before she could ask Ryan out.

_Of course,_ Calleigh thought, _it's not like Ryan and Natalia were exclusive. I mean, Ryan and I went out a couple of times while they were technically dating, so do I even need to adhere to that stupid rule?_

An excellent point. Calleigh mulled that over for a while.

_On the other hand,_ another part of Calleigh's brain said, _how tacky is it to ask a guy out the day after he broke up with someone? Don't want to seem too eager, now do we?_

Another good point.

_Hell,_ the other part of Calleigh's braid said, _I wanted to ask him to dinner on the way home from the hospital. I think I showed incredible restraint waiting as long as I have, anyway. If he weren't such a good guy, we'd probably already have slept together by now. Don't think that little night of dancing wasn't headed there. If he hadn't been seeing Natalia then we wouldn't be having this conversation, now would we?_

It was official. She'd snapped. She was not only talking to herself – though, granted, not out loud – she was carrying on a conversation with herself. The rational part of her brain was trying to reason with the hormone-crazed side, and, unofficially, the hormone-crazed side was winning. It wasn't like Calleigh had been waiting her whole life for Ryan, but she had been waiting a long time to find a guy like Ryan. The fact that it was Ryan himself, well, that was just an added bonus. And she'd had to endure nearly six weeks of the nauseating-ness that was the Ryan/Natalia fiasco – as they liked to call it around the lab…usually when neither Ryan nor Natalia were anywhere nearby. Delko had coined the phrase, but Calleigh wouldn't cop to using it. At least, not in public.

In her head, she'd used far worse terms.

Calleigh stretched on her back and bumped her head against the headboard. As she rubbed the spot where there would surely be a bruise the next morning, she couldn't help but wonder if her head would ever bang against that headboard again. For other reasons. Like marathon sex sessions with a particular coworker, whose name would not stop running through Calleigh's mind, no matter how hard she tried to stop it. Because, let's face it, she wasn't going to get any sleep as long as she kept thinking about him.

But she couldn't help it. Ryan was single now. She knew that he felt something for her, and now there was nothing – and nobody – standing in her way.

Her previous attempts to lure him had been unsuccessful. She wasn't about to make that mistake again. Those few times she'd asked him out for drinks after shift had been too subtle. She would have to be more obvious this time, that was all. She could do obvious. How about she lie in wait for him to get off the elevator, pull him into the supply closet, and have her way with him? How was that for obvious?

Oh, yeah. She could do obvious. No question about it.

Calleigh smiled and rolled over onto her side, staring at the clock on her bedside table. She knew she should try and get some sleep – she didn't want to look like night of the living dead when she went in for her shift the next day – but her mind was going a thousand miles a minute with no signs of slowing down. There was just no way she was going to get to sleep anytime soon.

She stretched an arm behind her and rubbed the sheet almost tenderly, wondering what it would be like to feel Ryan's warmth beside her in bed. To have his arm slung over her, holding her to him. To be pressed against the length of his body. She could tangle her legs in his, twine their fingers, bury her face in the crook of his neck and breathe in that scent that she couldn't quite describe but was uniquely Ryan.

Groaning, Calleigh shifted onto her back. Thinking along those lines would only get her in trouble. Already she could feel the flash of heat that was settling in the pit of her belly.

She sighed. There would be no sleep for her tonight.


	2. The Picture of Nothing

**A/N: Sorry about the shortness of the chapters. I am suffering from a severe lack of motivation and inspiration, and I thought spewing out shorter chapters might help until my muse returns from its vacation. Please don't hate me. I heart you guys and your continued reviews. I wish I could give you more, but I just don't have it in me right now.**

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Ryan hadn't been able to sleep, but he wasn't exhausted when he woke up. He was too wired to be exhausted, too excited to be tired. His stomach was churning with nervous excitement, so much so that he'd been afraid to eat breakfast that morning before work. The last time he'd felt this way, he'd made the mistake of eating and most of it had come back up a few minutes later. He wasn't about to do that again, not when today was the day he'd finally decided to ask out Calleigh. Hence the reason he'd been unable to sleep the night before.

Was it in poor taste to ask a girl out the day after breaking up with another one? Wasn't there some kind of code or something?

Although, if he thought about it, he had technically asked out Natalia when she was still technically seeing Delko. Ryan had asked Delko's permission before asking her out, but she was under the impression that they were still dating, and Ryan had asked her out. That was sure to violate some unwritten code, as well, and Ryan had basically pissed all over it. So why was he worried about breaking "the rules" now?

Because Calleigh was too important to him to screw up any chances he may have with her. Because he wanted to do this the right way. Because he thought about Calleigh every second of every day – waking or sleeping – and if anything was going to happen with the two of them, he wanted everything to be perfect. Failure was not an option. Not when it came to Calleigh Duquesne.

Lying awake all night had given him ample time to formulate a plan. He was going to march into work, the picture of suavity and confidence, find Calleigh, pull her into the locker room, and take her on one of the benches.

Failing that, he would march into work, the picture of confidence, find Calleigh, and ask her to dinner.

And if he ended up being too chicken to do even that, he would walk into work, the picture of nothing, subtly flirt with Calleigh all day, and hope that she asked him out for drinks again. Maybe, if he were really lucky, whatever case they got today would rattle her the way that abusive father accidental death case had.

How horrible was that, wishing that they got some gruesome case just so Calleigh would ask him out for drinks. But his stomach was eating itself, he was so nervous, and he needed all the help he could get.

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and while Ryan meant to stroll into the lab as confidently as possible, he didn't. There must have been some miscommunication between his brain and his feet, because instead of stepping, he kind of dragged the toe of his left shoe along the floor, causing him to trip and fall flat on his face in front of everyone in the lobby. When he picked himself up, he noticed that one of the people he had just made an ass out of himself in front of was none other than the love of his life, the object of his affection, Calleigh Duquesne.

She was grinning, one hand over her mouth, obviously struggling not to laugh. He really wished she would laugh, even though it was directed at him. She had a nice laugh. He also wished she wouldn't cover her mouth. She had a beautiful smile.

"Are you okay?" she asked, after she had calmed down a bit.

Ryan was desperate to sound smooth and unruffled, like he tripped over his own two feet in front of gorgeous coworkers all the time, and he said the first thing that popped into his head – which, in retrospect, probably wasn't the best idea.

"I think that floor is uneven."

She laughed and walked down the hall.

At least that decided which plan he would go with.


	3. On the Edge

**A/N: Parts of this chapter are based on the story "Touch" by singingstarryknights. A fabulous story, which I highly recommend to everyone, especially CaRWash fans.**

**ObsessedTWFan: You've never blamed the floor? It's always the floor. Sometimes the carpet raises up and trips you on purpose. At least mine does.**

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Calleigh had never seen such anxiety in the lab. Everyone was nervous, edgy. She could feel it. The tension was so palpable that it was practically absorbed into her skin. She was sweating it out of her pores. She was just as nervous as everyone else, but her nerves were different. She was worried about Eric and Horatio, to be sure – to lose someone so close in such a violent manner wasn't something one could just get over, especially not overnight – but she wasn't about to dwell on what happened. It was sad; she had liked Marisol, but the two had not been great friends. She would miss her, she would grieve for Horatio and Eric's loss, but she wouldn't wallow in sadness. Life was short. If Calleigh had learned anything from Marisol's death, she had learned that. It was a lesson she should have already known, but it hadn't quite sunk in before. Not until now.

Horatio had requested a meeting. Not so much "requested" as "demanded". The conversation had consisted of him finding her in the locker room and saying, "Calleigh, my office, please." Before she could ask for an explanation, he disappeared out the door. Curious as to what he wanted, she attached her badge to her belt and quickly shut her locker. Ryan entered as she was leaving; she flashed him a smile and continued out the door.

She felt Ryan approach before she actually saw him. He had either gotten ready in record time or run from the locker room. He appeared at her shoulder as they walked into Horatio's office – Horatio was conspicuously absent.

He smelled incredible again; she knew it wasn't cologne – he didn't wear cologne for the same reason she didn't wear perfume, because it interfered with the job – it was just him. That intoxicating scent of soap and clean laundry and something that was uniquely him; she knew he probably scrubbed twice in the shower, he was so obsessive-compulsive.

He leaned in close, so that his breath brushed her ear, and she shivered in spite of herself. "Any idea what this is about?"

She shook her head, knowing that she should step away from him, put a little distance between them, but also knowing that she wouldn't. This one fleeting moment of privacy was most likely all that they would get today, so she would relish the brief contact for what it was. It would have to last her all day.

They stepped apart just as Alexx walked in. Horatio and Eric quickly followed her. Calleigh could tell from the way the two men were standing that they had been having a rather heated conversation. Eric caught her eye, and she raised her eyebrows in silent question, but he shook his head and gestured at Horatio, who was making away around his desk.

Horatio made a sweeping gesture. "Have a seat," he said to his team.

Ryan immediately dropped into the nearest chair; Calleigh carefully sat in the one next to him, and Alexx sat beside her. Eric had no chair, but he didn't seem to care. He had moved behind Horatio's desk, leaning against the wall; it looked as though they were both going to be conducting this meeting. With a horrible sinking feeling in her stomach, Calleigh wondered if that were the case. She sneaked a sidelong glance at Ryan, who lifted one shoulder in a barely perceptible shrug.

"Antonio Riaz," Horatio said, folding his hands on his desk in front of him, "is being deported."

"What?" Calleigh and Ryan asked at the same time. Alexx shook her head slowly, her eyes sad. And from the look on Eric's face, he had already known that bit of information.

"The FBI made a deal with him," said Horatio. He was obviously struggling to remain calm. The vein in his forehead was throbbing, and he was clasping his hands so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. Calleigh glanced at Eric; one of the muscles in his jaw was twitching. "In exchange for information about an Afghan sleeper cell, the United States government has agreed to transport him to Brazil, where he will stand trial."

Calleigh's heart lurched. If what Horatio was saying were true, and she was sure that it was, then the possibility was very real that Riaz would be free within a matter of weeks. There was no way he would ever be convicted of crimes against the American people in a foreign country. And suddenly, Calleigh thought she knew the reason for this meeting.

"That's fucking bullshit," Ryan said, and Calleigh found herself staring incredulously at him. Mostly because of the vehemence in his voice, but also because she could not remember him having ever sworn so violently.

"Mr. Wolfe?" Horatio's voice was that same quiet, forced calm, but Calleigh could tell that he was just as surprised by Ryan's reaction as she was.

"After everything he's done?" Ryan asked, and she knew he was thinking of Jessop. She knew he had taken the officer's death extremely hard, perhaps harder than the rest of them had. "All the people that he's killed? Nearly bringing down an airplane? They're just going to let him go?"

Eric's gaze was focused on his hands when he answered. "They said that they were looking at the big picture."

Calleigh leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She lowered her voice, trying to get Eric to look at her, because she didn't like that deadened look in his eyes. "They told you this? When did they tell you?"

"Last night," Horatio said.

"At Marisol's grave," said Eric, and his voice broke, just a bit.

Calleigh's hand automatically went to her mouth as she let out a gasp of horror. Beside her, Ryan again swore violently, only this time under his breath. Alexx gripped the arms of her chair, her head bowed in disbelief. Eric and Horatio sported identical looks of pure and utter loathing, with matching haunted eyes.

The five of them sat in silence for a while, looking everywhere but at each other. Like Calleigh, it appeared that no one knew what to say. Finally, Calleigh spoke up. "You're going to Brazil." It wasn't a question.

Horatio nodded. Calleigh had known, from the moment he said that Riaz was going to Brazil, that he would go, too. Riaz had killed Horatio's wife, the one person to whom he had opened his heart – something the lieutenant could not and would not forgive. Calleigh knew that Horatio would follow Riaz, find him wherever in Brazil he happened to be, and kill him. There was no doubt in her mind that that was the case.

And of course Eric would go, too. Marisol was his sister, his family.

"Horatio, you can't," said Alexx, though she said it without much conviction.

He just stared at them, his eyes steel. "I can."

Calleigh said nothing; neither did Alexx. Ryan simply shook his head. Calleigh wondered if they all knew just how pointless it would be to try to talk either of them out of their decision. Marisol was dead, Riaz was responsible, and so they were going to be wherever Riaz was. That was just the way things were.

"Calleigh," Horatio said, "you're in charge while Eric and I are gone. You and Mr. Wolfe may have to call in some favors on the night shift to handle the caseload."

She nodded slowly, understanding. With only her and Ryan, work would pile up. Who knew how long Horatio and Eric would be gone? There was no way they could do it themselves, no matter how good they were.

"When do you leave?" Ryan asked.

Eric, his eyes still locked on his hands, said, "This afternoon."

No one asked how they had managed to swing this. Their excursion to Brazil was most likely not approved by the head of the lab. Horatio and Eric were risking a lot to follow Riaz – their jobs, their lives… But they would go. It was just the kind of guys that they were.

"That is all," said Horatio. He had risen from his seat before he had even finished speaking, and both he and Eric were gone before anyone could say anything.

Calleigh, Alexx, and Ryan remained seated. After a few moments of silence, Ryan said, "They're going to get killed."

Alexx stood and walked over to Ryan, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, honey, this is something they've got to do. Nothing we can do about it." She sighed and started for the door, mumbling under her breath. Calleigh wasn't sure, but she thought she heard Alexx say, "Looks like I won't be getting any sleep for a while," as she left.

Long after Alexx had left, Calleigh and Ryan stayed where they were. Calleigh was staring at Horatio's desk, not really seeing anything. Her eyes were unfocused, her vision blurry. She was thinking about what she would do if Ryan ended up being right and the both Horatio and Eric were killed while in Brazil. It was something she didn't want to think about – not today.

Beside her, Ryan's leg began bouncing. Instead of resting his feet flat on the floor, he was putting all of his weight on his toes, causing his leg to jiggle. It was annoying, and it worried Calleigh. Ryan was always in control – except when he was dancing – and he was putting himself in a position where he was losing control, even something as seemingly insignificant as his legs.

Without thinking, she reached across the barrier between them and placed her hand on his bouncing leg, just above the knee. Almost of its own volition, her hand slid from his knee up his thigh – dangerously high. Ryan's leg stilled instantly.

She only wanted to calm Ryan down, reassure him. But the simple touch was rapidly backfiring. Now she was the one filling full of nervous energy. She could feel her leg start to twitch, feel that fire burning in her belly once more. But she didn't remove her hand from his leg. It was almost like her hand was glued to his thigh.

He turned slowly to look at her. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were a blazing cobalt blue. She knew that whatever she was feeling, he was going through the same thing. And that look in his eyes – it was reminiscent of that night at La Llama. She knew where that look would lead, and right now was not the best time. Reluctantly, she removed her hand from his thigh. She missed the feel of his body almost instantly.

"We'd better get to work," she said, forcing a smile. She stood on shaky legs and made her way out of Horatio's office.

She could feel Ryan's eyes on her the entire time.


	4. Moments Like These

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update. I'm a lazy procrastinator. And now I'm an unemployed lazy procrastinator. Hopefully, with all the time I now have on my hands, I can get some serious writing done. **

**Thank you guys so much for the continued reviews! You have no idea how much this means to me!**

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**Later that afternoon, after Calleigh and Ryan had returned from the harbor, where they found the body of a young woman floating among some dead fish, Ryan found himself at a loss. He had never heard the lab so quiet. It was eerie, and just this side of creepy. Normally, the lab was bustling with lab techs, CSIs, and cops racing around struggling to catch the bad guy. People very rarely strolled anywhere in the lab; they strode with purpose, with intent. They got where they were going and they did it as quickly as possible. Time was of the essence. Precious seconds could be wasted. 

Now, time seemed insignificant. Ryan absentmindedly wandered the lab, unsure of where to go or what to do. He knew he should probably head to DNA and pick up the results of the hair follicles he had found at the dump site, but his feet just didn't want to take him there. Valera had paged him nearly fifteen minutes ago, and under normal circumstances he would have been there before his phone was even finished alerting him that he had a page. Today, though, it didn't seem important.

He ended up in the locker room, seated on the bench, staring at the broken, busted locker that bore his name. The locker directly beside his, on the left, still said "Speedle". It was a constant reminder to Ryan that he was someone's replacement, that he was only here because someone had died. In two years, no one had removed Speedle's name or bothered to fix Ryan's locker.

Ryan hooked the toe of his shoe around the protruding bottom of his locker and pulled it open. It clanged against Speed's locker. Ryan then used his foot to push the locker shut. He did this for a while – open, close, open, close – just to keep his mind from wandering. He knew he should go to DNA. He knew he should do his job, but he couldn't bring himself to think of anything but the fact that Horatio and Delko were on their way towards certain death, and he was left behind.

He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he didn't even realize that Calleigh was behind him until she spoke. That in itself was odd, since he seemed to be unusually attuned to her presence. He could often sense her coming before she appeared. Today, though, he obviously had other things on his mind.

"Ryan?" Calleigh said. She sat down beside him on the bench, so that their legs were touching. He sucked in a ragged breath. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said, trying to ignore the fact that he could feel her heat through the fabric of his slacks. Oh god, she was trying to kill him. He went back to opening and closing his locker door, but the action only served to bring more of his leg in contact with hers, so he stopped.

"I'm worried about them, too," she said. He resisted the urge to look at her. If he looked at her… He didn't want to think about what might happen. "But it'll be all right."

He failed his inner battle and turned to look at her. She wasn't looking at him, though; she was staring at some random spot on the locker in front of her – Speed's locker. Her face was sad and her eyes were haunted and Ryan was suddenly extremely pissed off at Horatio and Delko for putting that look on her face. He was going to say that she couldn't possibly know that everything was going to be all right, that there was no way this whole situation could have a happy ending, that they could very well lose another one of their own before the end of the day tomorrow, but the words died in his throat. Seeing her like that, she looked so helpless. He only wanted to reassure her, to destroy that haunted look in her eyes for good. He never wanted to see her sad.

"Sure," he said, pumping as much false brightness into his tone as he could muster. "Of course it'll be all right. H has nine lives. He can do anything."

Calleigh smiled, but it didn't quite touch her eyes. Even without her looking at him, Ryan could tell. "The point is," she said, and now her voice matched her expression, "that we have to go on without them here. We have to do our job."

Ryan hung his head, ashamed. Some poor woman had died and they had no leads – Alexx was still working on cause of death, Calleigh had been in trace all afternoon but the water had destroyed most of it, and instead of answering Valera's page and finding out if she had made any headway with the DNA, Ryan had come into the locker room to mope. What was he becoming? Nothing would be solved this way.

He shifted on the bench, straddling it, so that he now faced Calleigh fully. "Find anything in trace?"

She shook her head, her body rigid. "No. And Valera didn't get anything off the hair follicles either. No tags."

He sighed. "So we've got nothing."

At this, Calleigh turned to face him. She pulled her one leg onto the bench and angled her body towards him. "We've never got nothing, Ryan. There's always something. We just have to find it."

Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. She'd been crying. Ryan felt a lurch somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. Damn Delko and Horatio for making Calleigh cry. He choked down the urge to brush her hair out of her face, but he wasn't sure how long he could resist this growing need to kiss her. She was just so…kissable right then. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks were flushed and…

He coughed, suddenly uncomfortable. He could feel the blood rushing south and knew that if he stayed here much longer, he would pass out from lack of blood flow to his brain. "Say, do you… Do you want to go out after shift tonight?"

Calleigh raised her eyebrows, and he saw a hint of a sparkle appear in her eyes. "Go out?"

Ryan nodded. "Yeah. I could use a drink, or something."

The corners of her mouth tugged upwards in the trace hint of a smile. She leaned forward slightly. "A drink."

He could feel her breath on his face. Oh, this was a bad idea. A very bad idea. "Or something."

She was coming closer. Her eyelids had fluttered closed. He felt his body move to meet her of its own volition, since his brain was screaming at him to stop.

"Ryan!"

The two of them jumped apart as if they'd been burned. Ryan bit his lip to keep from screaming in frustration and turned to face the source of the interruption. Valera was standing in the door to the locker room, waving a piece of paper with more excitement than he was sure the situation warranted. "What is it, Valera?"

"I've got something," she said. She seemed to have no idea what she had just walked in on. "You need to see this." She nodded at Calleigh. "You, too."

Calleigh slid down the bench, away from Ryan, and stood up a little too eagerly. She practically bolted for the door. Ryan stayed in place. Calleigh turned when she reached the door and realized that Ryan wasn't behind her. "Aren't you coming?"

He bit his lip again. "I'm right behind you."

She disappeared through the door and Ryan released a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. He glared down at his offending appendage and desperately tried to deflate it. He would never survive the rest of the day if he and Calleigh kept having these moments together. He might very well have a heart attack before the day was out.


	5. Crossing the Street

**A/N: I kept writing this in present tense instead of past tense. I think it might be leftover from my CSI: NY fic.**

**Personal stuff's going down. Life is crazy. Friends sometimes suck. CSI is always there. Rock on.**

**Dutchie – I'm moving in August, so I quit my job. Hence why I am unemployed.**

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Calleigh really had no idea how she managed to make it through the rest of the day without exploding. That was the second time she'd almost kissed Ryan – damn Valera for walking in, though she had made a breakthrough in their case – and she was getting frustrated. Particularly with the "almost" part. She wasn't sure how much more she could take. She was literally aching every time he caught her eye that afternoon. His dark gaze was smoldering; he was looking at her like he couldn't wait to rip off all her clothes. She was sorely tempted, more than once, whenever he passed her in the hall, to push him into the nearest supply closet. 

At the end of shift, when the floater had been identified and Alexx determined that it had been suicide and not murder, Calleigh found Ryan in the locker room. He was once again staring at his locker, though not so dejectedly as before.

"Ryan," she said, and he turned to look at her. "Still want that drink?"

He blinked and stared her for a few seconds before responding. "Yeah. Sure."

The bar they ended up at was a dingy hole in the wall. There were maybe fifteen patrons scattered about, seated on the filthy bar stools and booths with peeling upholstery. Ryan and Calleigh's booth was small, tucked in a darkened corner that reeked of cigarette smoke and stale beer. Their legs touched underneath the table, their elbows touched on top, and it was all Calleigh could think about. Ryan didn't seem to notice.

They didn't speak. Their eyes were on their drinks. The mood at the booth was somber.

Calleigh's vision was blurred, but not from the alcohol. She'd only had the one drink, and she hadn't even finished yet. Her vision was blurry because she'd been staring at her half-filled beer mug for the better part of an hour. She wasn't even positive whether or not she blinked. She was thinking.

She knew she should be thinking about Horatio and Eric, and she was. She wondered where they were in their trip, if they were safe, if she would ever see them again, if she should've given them a proper goodbye. But mostly she thought about what had almost happened between her and Ryan in the locker room earlier that day. She knew how she felt about Ryan, but she wasn't sure how ready she was to take their relationship to the next level. Mostly, she was afraid that she had built up this fantasy in her mind, and the reality wouldn't live up to her expectations.

Hell, she'd never get anywhere thinking like that. No one ever got anywhere by giving into fear. That was like not crossing the street because you were afraid you'd get hit by a bus.

Eventually, she raised her eyes to stare at Ryan.

His eyes were downcast, so she couldn't tell what color they were. She wanted so badly to lose herself in those eyes. If anything could make her forget, it was those eyes. He took a long gulp of his beer, then licked his lips. Her eyes were riveted on that action. She wondered, if she were to kiss him, would she be able to taste the beer on his lips? What would he taste like? He seemed like he would taste sweet. He turned his mug slowly in his hands, then traced the outline of the handle with one finger. She found herself wondering what it would feel like if he were to do that to her. She imagined his finger trailing down her stomach, going lower…lower…lower…

"You want to get out of here?" she asked. The words were out of her mouth before she even realized what she was saying, but she wasn't about to take it back now. Damn her fear. She couldn't let the fear hold her back from going after something she really wanted. And she wanted Ryan. She had to cross the street sometime.

She couldn't even blame the alcohol for lowering her inhibitions, because she hadn't consumed any alcohol. She doubted she'd drunk enough beer to even get to the alcohol. So whatever she was thinking, whatever she was feeling, it was her and nothing else.

He met her gaze, his eyes a dull, smoky gray. "What?"

"Come on," she said, sliding out of the booth and grabbing his hand, "let's get out of here."

The cab ride was silent. Calleigh had given the driver her address on a whim and tried to ignore the surprised look Ryan gave her as she settled back into the seat. Her heart was beating a thousand miles a minute. She couldn't believe she was actually doing this. No, scratch that. She couldn't believe she was finally doing this. She couldn't believe that after so long, she and Ryan were on their way back to her apartment.

She had no idea what the hell was wrong with their driver; he must have been the slowest driver in the world. She swore that a glacier passed them on their way. But the long ride gave her a chance to study Ryan – the line of his jaw, the curve of his ear… All while he wasn't looking, of course. When he did turn to look at her, she would look away. But then she could feel his eyes on her. She felt herself growing warmer and knew she must be blushing. When she turned back to look at him, he was looking out the window again.

At last, they pulled to a stop outside her apartment building. Ryan leapt out first, almost before the cab had come to a complete stop. He ran around to the other side as Calleigh opened the door and held out his hand to help her out of the car.

The walk up to her apartment had never taken so long. It felt like an endless march up stairs and down hallways until they arrived to her door, where she hesitated.

She wanted this. God, did she want this. So why the hesitation?

Ryan must have seen her hesitate, because he said, "You know, maybe I should just call it a night." She turned to look at him, her eyes open wide, unable to say anything. "I mean, with just the two of us working the lab, we're going to have a busy day tomorrow."

He started to turn. Calleigh's brain was screaming at her to break out of her paralysis and say something, do something, anything, to prevent him from leaving. She didn't want him to leave. She couldn't believe he wanted to leave.

"Ryan," she said, and he turned back around. Without even stopping to think of the consequences, of the ramifications, of what she was about to do, she stepped forward, placed her hands on the back of his neck, and pressed her lips to his.

* * *

**A/N: Oh, I'm evil! Sorry about that.**


	6. Gator Bait

**A/N: Sorry about the evilness. I got this up as soon as I could to spare you all the suffering of waiting. However, you may still hate me at the end of this chapter.**

**Additional Disclaimer: I can't write a love scene to save my life. Please be kind. Don't judge me. By the way, this chapter starts the reason that the story is rated M. You have been warned.**

* * *

It took Ryan about three full seconds to realize that Calleigh was kissing him. It took him another five for the realization that Calleigh Duquesne was actually kissing him to completely sink in. Once he had realized it, however, it took him approximately half a heartbeat to kiss her back.

He brought his hands up to cup her face and moved his lips slowly over hers. He wanted to worship her, to show her just how much she meant to him, just how much he loved her. He wanted to savor everything about her, from the faint fruity smell of her shampoo to the feel of her soft skin to the sweet taste of her lips. He wanted to remember everything about this moment, because this was without a doubt the single greatest moment of his entire life.

He wanted to take things slow, but she undermined him. She ran her tongue along the seam of his lips, which parted easily in response. He responded in kind, stroking his tongue out to touch hers. She lightly sucked on it, and jolts of electricity shot through his body and settled south of the border. Sweet Jesus, she was good at this – at kissing. He never wanted to stop kissing her, and he only pulled away when his lust-addled brain dimly registered the fact that he was running out of oxygen.

Ryan reluctantly broke away and rested his forehead against Calleigh's. His heart was pounding in his ears, his pulse was racing, he felt dizzy and lightheaded. He must have looked like he was going to pass out, because Calleigh asked, "Are you all right?"

He took several gulping breaths, trying to steady his heart rate. Then he nodded and said, "I'm good," and captured her lips once more.

Somehow, Calleigh managed to not only unlock her door but also open it while kissing Ryan. Actually, it was more like the door fell open as Ryan tried to pin Calleigh against it. They stumbled through the open door and into Calleigh's apartment, mouths fused and hands everywhere. Ryan was vaguely aware of Calleigh stretching out her leg in order to kick her door shut, but he was otherwise occupied as he wrenched his lips from hers so that he could suck on the smooth skin of her throat.

"Ryan," Calleigh said. It came out as a breathless moan – unmistakably the most arousing sound he had ever heard – and fueled his desire all the more.

He'd never prided himself on his upper body strength, but he effortlessly lifted Calleigh and pinned her against the door. She squirmed against him, obviously trying to get down – Calleigh liked to have the upper hand, he knew – but he responded by pressing her harder into the wood. His hands gripped the underside of her thighs, practically forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist. She locked her ankles at the small of his back. He moaned into her mouth and unconsciously thrust against her.

She pulled away, and he damn near whimpered in protest, until he realized that she had only pulled away so that she could place a kiss at the spot where his shoulder met his neck. She moved her lips up his throat to his ear. Then she trailed her tongue along the shell of his ear and lightly sucked on the lobe. His knees buckled, and he had to let go of her thighs so that he could brace his hands against the door in an effort to remain standing.

Almost as soon as he released her thighs, her feet were on the ground and her lips were back on his. She pushed him towards the center of the room, near the sofa. He felt the back of his legs hit the edge of her couch, and he tumbled over the arm. He grabbed Calleigh to steady himself, but only succeeded in pulling her with him. He landed on his back, smacking his head off the other arm, and she landed on top of him, straddling his hips.

There was a glint in her eye as she lowered her head to once more capture his lips with hers and ground her hips against his.

"Fuck, Calleigh," Ryan said. The words came out in a hiss. The sight of her on top of him like that, even fully clothed, was almost enough to make him come right on the spot. Holy shit, was this really happening? Was Calleigh Duquesne seriously sitting on top of him, grinding against him?

Calleigh pulled away again, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. "What do you say we take this into the bedroom?"

_Fuck_.

Ryan's mind went totally blank. At the moment, he didn't think he could remember his own name. Had she really just said that? Or had he hallucinated?

_Shit, she's looking at you. Say something, you idiot!_

But he couldn't say anything. His tongue, which had moments ago been performing admirably, suddenly decided to rebel against him. It lay motionless in his mouth, thick and useless. He couldn't say a word.

The glint faded from Calleigh's eyes. She seemed to be second-guessing her suggestion, which was the last thing he wanted her to do. "Of course," she said, "if you think we're going too fast…maybe we could wait…"

She started to slide off of him, but Ryan hooked his fingers through the belt loops on her jeans to prevent her from moving.

_Say something, damnit!_

His voice was hoarse and unrecognizable, but at least he was finally able to talk. "I think we've waited long enough, don't you?"

Calleigh's smile threatened to split her face in two. "Come on, then, gator bait," she said. "Show me what you're made of."


	7. Soar

**A/N: You all love me. Admit it.**

**Hope this was worth the wait. Remember, can't write a love scene to save my life. And go.**

**By the way, is it plagiarism if you plagiarize yourself? Just a question.**

* * *

Calleigh knelt on her bed, facing Ryan, who hovered in the doorway to her bedroom. She stared up at him, seeing his hesitation, and once again reconsidered her decision. Maybe he wasn't that into her; she was the one who kept taking the initiative with their relationship. She asked him out. She brought him back to her apartment. She kissed him. Now he was unwilling to even take a step into her bedroom. She wished he would take the upper hand, just once. She was going crazy, fighting down old insecurities she thought she had buried a long time ago.

She had never been more confused. She'd kissed him, but he had kissed her back. She'd asked him if he thought they should wait, and he said they'd waited long enough. But he wouldn't cross the threshold into her room.

_Men_.

She took a deep breath and struggled to keep the smile on her face. "Listen, Ryan…" she said, but she couldn't figure out how to finish that sentence.

She didn't have to. Ryan crossed the distance from her door to her bed in approximately three steps. He put his hands behind her thighs and flipped her onto her back. He straddled her hips and her wrists above her head, effectively pinning her to the bed. He leaned down and kissed her, pushing her into the mattress, still gripping her arms. He pulled away to trail kisses across her collarbone, leaving a perfect trail of moisture. Calleigh felt her pulse quicken. Each brush of his lips against her skin sent a bolt of energy right down her middle. There was a flash of heat below her belt. She found she liked this side of Ryan.

"Calleigh," Ryan said in between kisses, "if you don't want to do this, tell me now." He placed a kiss at the hollow of her throat and she moaned before she could stop herself. "Because I don't think I'll be able to control myself much longer. I don't think I'll be able to stop."

She didn't answer. Instead, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him towards her until their lips met in another fiery kiss. She fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, managing to undo them with luck rather than accuracy, as her brain was beginning to fog over.

His eyes had darkened, and he was grinning as she struggled to remove his shirt. "Gator bait?" he asked. He released her wrists so that she could slide his shirt off his shoulders.

She nodded, breathless, as he slipped his hands underneath the hem of her shirt. She shivered. "From your first day, remember?"

He laughed softly and rid herself of her shirt in one swift motion, nearly ripping the collar in the process. "I remember," he said. He leaned to the side and deposited her shirt on the floor with his own. "I remember everything you say to me."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Oh, really?" But her voice faltered on the last word as she felt him tugging at the cups of her bra.

"Oh, yeah," he said. He slid the straps down her shoulders and pressed a light kiss to her shoulder blade. "I was commenting on the nickname."

"What about it?" She reached for his belt buckle and accidentally brushed against his erection as she did so. He sucked in a sharp breath and bucked his hips. She couldn't help but smile as he bit his bottom lip in what was surely an attempt to maintain control. "I'll have you know I give nicknames to everyone at the lab."

He took a deep, steadying breath and quite suddenly unhooked her bra with one finger. "You do?" He dipped his head forward and ran his tongue from her navel, along the valley between her breasts, to her throat, pausing for a moment to lightly suck on the skin. She gasped and arched into him. "Like what?"

Her mind was fuzzy, but she was still lucid. Simply amazing, how they were able to maintain a semi-intelligent conversation while ripping each other's clothes off. "What do you mean?"

His hands burrowed underneath her and pulled her to him. She whimpered as her nipples came into contact with his bare chest, but he swallowed her whimper as his mouth once again came crashing down on hers. He ended the kiss by lightly sucking on her bottom lip. He was grinning when he pulled away. "The nicknames. Like…what's H's nickname?"

It took her a moment to remember what they were talking about, mostly because one of Ryan's hands had worked its way around her body. He was very, very good with his hands. "Um… H-Bomb."

Ryan laughed again, his fingers busy with her breast. "I like that. 'H-Bomb.' You actually call him that?"

Calleigh snaked a hand between them so that she could brush against the bulge in his pants again. She smiled as he shuddered, and his hand immediately stilled. She pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Only when he's not around," she said against his mouth. She kissed him again.

They were moving too slowly for Calleigh's taste. She attacked his belt buckle once more, not bothering to be gentle as she yanked the belt from the loops and tossed it across the room. That seemed to be the catalyst that got Ryan moving, and in the next moment they were both frantically trying to remove the remainder of each other's clothing. Pants, socks, shoes, underwear got tossed aside like garbage. She couldn't be sure, but the lamp may have been knocked from her bedside table in the melee.

As soon as they were both undressed, Ryan lowered her to the mattress once more. He hovered above her, his arms shaking with the effort. His eyes caressed her form, taking in every inch of her, and he gave her a look that was both possessive and helpless. His pupils had dilated so much that his eyes were black instead of the smoky gray color they had been, and he seemed to have lost all control over his body. But she knew what he was doing. He was asking for permission to continue. She gave it to him with a whimper of ecstasy that she couldn't contain, and in one swift motion, he was inside her.

He began to move, and she ceased to think. She could barely remember her own name, but she definitely remembered Ryan's. It came out as a breathless whisper that seemed to fuel his desire all the more. He increased his pace, and she matched his thrusts without even fully realizing what she was doing. She wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles at the small of his back, driving him deeper inside of her, and to prevent herself from crying out at the assault of new sensations that action brought down on her, she sank her teeth into his shoulder.

It wasn't long – she knew it wouldn't be, as aroused as she was, as long as she'd waited for this – before they were both gasping for breath. She tried to hold on as long as she could, lost in the feeling of being so intimately joined with Ryan, but she couldn't hold back much longer. She came first, a long breathy moan that tore itself from her throat as her nails dug into his back. He managed a few more thrusts before he climaxed, too.

She came back to herself slowly, gasping for breath, dimly aware that Ryan had collapsed on top of her. They were still joined physically; she was too exhausted to separate from him. Instead, she lost herself in the dark steel color of his eyes. Ryan smiled at her, then reached up and combed his fingers through her hair; the gesture was so tender that it made Calleigh's heart ache. He placed a soft kiss on her lips, and she murmured his name into his mouth.

He pulled back to look at her, and she immediately knew that the closest she could be to Ryan would never be close enough. His eyebrows were raised in silent question, but what that question was supposed to be, Calleigh had no idea. He started to roll off her, but she tightened her legs around his waist, holding him inside.

"Calleigh," he said, his tone amused, "you have to give me a few minutes here."

She smiled, gently running the tips of her fingers along the crescent-shaped wound her teeth had made. "Just…stay. For a minute."

His face became serious. "I'll stay forever if you'll let me."

She knew he meant it. And her heart soared.


	8. Sweet

Ryan had a routine in the mornings. He woke up around five to go for his daily run, after which he would stretch for fifteen minutes. After stretching, he showered and dressed, wearing the clothes he had set aside the night before. Then he ate his usual breakfast of granola and fruit. He watched the news while he ate breakfast, occasionally flipping to ESPN to see how his teams did the day before. After breakfast, he brushed, flossed, and gargled with mouthwash. He checked his email before he left for work, answered any to which he felt compelled to respond. He left for the lab fifteen minutes earlier than he needed to in case traffic was bad, and with the extra time he generally had, he stopped for coffee. He never deviated from his routine.

Then again, he'd never spent the night at Calleigh Duquesne's either.

He didn't need an alarm. His internal clock was more accurate than any alarm. And when he woke up the next morning, he was instantly aware of two things – he was not in his own bed, and someone else was in bed with him.

He lay on his side, one arm flung back behind him – most likely dislocated, if the pins and needles he felt as he shifted were any indication – and the other wrapped around the warm, soft, decidedly naked body of Calleigh Duquesne. He pulled her flush against him and buried his nose in her hair, marveling at how he could still smell her shampoo, even after everything. He smiled against the back of her neck, barely able to contain the shout of joy that threatened to explode out of him – and had ever since she kissed him in her hallway the night before.

How could he possibly be so lucky? What had he done to deserve the fabulous woman currently sleeping, warm and safe, in his arms? He must have been a saint in a past life, not that he believed in that, of course.

Calleigh shifted in his arms and he pulled back, giving her the space to move. She rolled over in her sleep, so that now her curves were pressing against him, and damn if his lower extremities weren't ready for action. It didn't take much – not with Calleigh. Hell, all she had to do was smile at him and he was gone.

But he was loath to wake her up; she looked so unbelievably beautiful while she was sleeping. Her face bore a peaceful expression that was normally absent when he saw her at the lab. The corners of her mouth were turned upwards in the barest hint of a smile. Her hair was still a mess.

God, he loved her. It was this weird feeling in his chest, like mice were running up and down his ribcage. He loved her so much that at times he thought he might die from it. He wanted her so badly that it grew more and more difficult to restrain himself at work. And here she was, asleep in his arms.

Clearly, there was a God. And Ryan owed Him big time.

Her eyelids fluttered and opened, and her eyes met his. She smiled, and he brushed his lips against hers. She instantly captured his lips in a much more intimate, passionate kiss. He responded without thinking, rolling onto his back and pulling her with him, so that she was lying on top of him. He was breathless when she pulled away.

"I was trying not to wake you," he said, which was not entirely untrue. He'd wanted to watch her sleep, but he also wanted to kiss her until his brain popped from lack of oxygen.

Calleigh winked at him. "I've been awake a while," she said. "I was just… I didn't feel like moving."

He grinned. "Same here."

She laid her head on his chest and began to trace light patterns on his arm with her fingertips. He shivered, aware of the goose bumps that suddenly dotted his flesh. He never wanted to leave this bed. "Last night," Calleigh said, her breath tickling his skin, "was…"

She trailed off, but she didn't need to finish it. He sensed where she was going. At least, he hoped he did. His way to finish that sentence was _amazing, incredible, perfect, unbelievable_… The list went on. "Yeah."

"Should we talk about it?"

It was incredibly hard to concentrate with her fingers trailing up and down his arms. Already his brain was beginning to fog over, and he knew that if they continued down this path, they would be late for work. But he wasn't about to stop her. His eyes were locked on her fingers. "Probably."

She abruptly stopped her ministrations, and he frowned, thinking that his answer wasn't good enough. He raised his eyes to meet hers and found the expression in them unreadable. It was a mix of so many emotions that he could not have even begun to describe it. "I like you, Ryan," she said, "and I have for a long time."

Like. _I like you, Ryan._ It wasn't love, but he could live with that. For now.

She paused, peering intently at him, and he nodded, indicating that she should continue, which she did. "What happened last night, I don't want that to be it."

"I don't want that either," Ryan said, his tongue practically tripping over the words in his haste to get them out. He reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned into his touch, and his breath caught in his throat. "I was an idiot. With Natalia."

Calleigh's smile lit up her face. "Well, I believe that could be considered the understatement of the year."

He gently pressed his fingers to her lips to silence her, but the action backfired when she drew them into her mouth and lightly sucked on them. He had to bite his lip to stifle the groan. "I don't want to be an idiot with you, Calleigh." God, that woman could do amazing things with her tongue. It really wasn't fair. "This…us…I want it to work."

Her eyes sparkled as she answered. "Well, then, don't date the office whore anymore."

Ryan let out a great barking laugh, but at the same time felt his face burn with humiliation. "Is that what you call her?"

Calleigh shook her head, still grinning. "Of course not. That would be rude."

He ran the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip. "And you're never rude."

"No." He felt her shiver against him. They were quiet for a long time, just staring at each other. Her pupils had dilated, his breathing had become ragged, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out. Then Calleigh broke the spell and propped herself up on her elbows. "I'm probably disrupting your morning routine, aren't I?"

_What routine?_ "Yes," he said, attempting to sound indignant and probably failing miserably, since he couldn't quite keep the smile off his face. "As a matter of fact, you are."

She laughed – a low, throaty laugh that was so unbelievably sexy that, had Ryan been standing, his knees would have buckled. "Well, maybe you need a new morning routine."

_Fuck, yes. _He wanted to kiss her. He wanted a replay of what they had done the night before. But they weren't done. Not yet. "What do you want, Calleigh?"

She stared at him, her face serious for the first time that morning. Then she gave him a shy smile. "You," she said. "I want you."

He thought his heart might explode. "You've got me," he said. His eyes burned, and he knew he was tearing up. He forced them back. He wasn't going to get all weepy and cry in front of Calleigh. "For as long as you'll have me."

She lowered her head to meet his and kissed him, long and slow and deep. Her tongue brushed against his, and he returned the gesture with a thorough exploration of his own. They kissed like that for a while, until he was dizzy and breathless and this close to passing out. She was grinning like the Cheshire cat when she pulled away. She shifted against him, and he knew he was in trouble. She licked her lips and said, "I think we may be late to the lab this morning."

He shrugged, barely able to control the sudden surge of desire that threatened to overwhelm him. "Oh, well."

She laughed again. He silenced her with a kiss. He rolled them over so that he had her pinned beneath him. He kissed her with every fiber of his being. He kissed her for all the times he'd wanted to and hadn't. He kissed her with all the love in his heart, and he knew that nothing would ever taste as sweet as this – as love.

* * *

**A/N: And that concludes "The Taste of Love". I know, I know, I kind of overdid it on the cheese, but I like cheese. I may continue with the series should I feel inspired, but as of right now, consider this the end. I hope this was a satisfactory ending and that you all liked it as much as you liked the rest of it. I would hate to disappoint my loyal readers.**

**I'm probably not done with CaRWash (so long as season 5 gives us many moments – remember, this all started with an episode addition), but I think this is the end to "The Taste of Love" series. I already said that, didn't I?**

**Many thanks and cookies go to Dutchie, lagentillefan, ObsessedTWFan, CSIWATCHER, beautifulworld, gimmeabreak, Beaglicious, JD, Shadowfax27, Manhattan SVU, Sara Duquesne, and sienna. You guys are awesome. Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews!**


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